


it feels like my heart is in a hurry

by chthonicheart



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Children's Author!Buck, Dealing With Trauma, Flashbacks, Found Family, Friends to Lovers, LIKE REALLY HE IS GONNA GET SO OBLIVIOUS im so sorry, M/M, Major Character Injury, Mutual Pining, Nightmares, Oblivious Buck, Personal Growth, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, finding yourself, firefam - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-18 03:29:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21504469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chthonicheart/pseuds/chthonicheart
Summary: Maddie gently shoves his shoulder. “Stop being a jerk when I’m trying to be supportive of you, Buck.”Buck smiles. “I thought you were ‘proud of me’ and ‘happy to see me smile’ again,” he quotes, in what has been his Maddie voice since he was twelve-years-old.
Relationships: Athena Grant/Bobby Nash, Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz, Henrietta "Hen" Wilson/Karen Wilson, Maddie Buckley/Howie "Chimney" Han
Comments: 28
Kudos: 233





	1. my heart is in a mess

**Author's Note:**

> hello!!!
> 
> this is my first wip in... oh man, six or seven years? ive been working on this a lot the last couple weeks and i already have the first three chapters written and have the entire thing planned! this is probably going to be a long one, folks. 
> 
> this does follow canon to some degree, buck was a firefighter with the 118, and was up until the tsunami. eddie and christopher don't move to LA until after the tsunami, because i said so and this idea won't leave me alone lmao. 
> 
> this will generally be a happy fluffy fic but i do want to talk about & deal with buck's trauma in this (which i will evolve upon and reveal as the story goes on) so it will get kind of heavy at times! tags may be altered and edited as time goes on to reflect this. 
> 
> this is unbeta'd bc i'm impatient, but will probably edit this with the edited version when that's done!
> 
> whoops also forgot to mention this began from an image prompt on the 911 discord and grew far too many legs. im so sorry ;w;
> 
> as always please let me know what you think! thank you everyone for your support thus far, i could weep ;____; <3

Buck can feel Maddie’s eyes on him. 

They're not exactly hard to miss, at this point they're practically boring into his face. He'd almost be nervous there was something on his face, but she probably would have pointed it out by now, and she _does_ have the tendency to worry about him before an event. Despite how comfortable he's gotten with doing them recently -- meeting new people, helping them, that had always been one of his favorite things off and on the clock. To see that this hasn't necessarily changed is one thing he's grateful for -- she still worries about him. He'd be lying if he said he didn't love her for it.

He probably would have completely self-isolated himself if it weren't for her.

“You sure you’re up for this, Buck?” Maddie asks, concern hanging onto her tone particularly hard tonight. He doesn't understand why, it's their last night of the tour, and after this Buck plans to _finally_ sleep in his own bed, in his own loft, getting some much-needed distance from the waking world for a bit. 

He laughs, waving off her concern gently with a shake of his head. He’s touched, really, by how much she cares, how much she tries to take care of him even still, but this really is the calmest he’s felt at a Meet and Greet since he started doing them five months ago. The first few were a different story. Maddie had to drag him to more than a few of them.

Now, they’re one of the things he enjoys the most about the work. Getting to meet all the little kids and parents of said little kids who enjoyed his book brings a kind of contentment he’s not sure he expected to find. Certainly not after everything that went down over the last couple of years. To say they have been hell would be an understatement.

“You don’t need to worry about me tonight, Mads,” Buck assures her. “I actually feel pretty good about this one.” 

Her gaze turns pleasantly surprised. “That’s amazing, Buck. I’m so proud of you, you know that?” 

“I don’t know. It’s not like you tell me every day or anything like that.” 

Maddie gently shoves his shoulder. “Stop being a jerk when I’m trying to be supportive of you, Buck.” 

Buck smiles. “I thought you were ‘proud of me’ and ‘happy to see me smile’ again,” he quotes, in what has been his Maddie voice since he was twelve-years-old. 

“I can be both,” Maddie reminds him. Her eyes flick over to where readers are already starting to pour through the doors, eyes lighting up in excitement. Buck, not for the first time, is so damn happy he asked her to be part of this with him. “I think there’s going to be a pretty big turn out tonight.” 

"Yeah?" Buck asks, wrinkling his nose a little, though he's grateful for the subject change. Dealing with the intensity of her support is a little too much sometimes. "Well, it is downtown LA."

Maddie groans in agreement. "Tell me about it. I am _so_ not looking forward to all the hand cramping after the books we sign tonight." 

"Don't remind me," Buck whines, making sure it's as obnoxiously dramatic as possible. He sobers a moment later, nudging their shoulders together. "I did get us some Icy-Hot wraps, though. So at least we'll be able to numb away the pain."

“You’re my favorite little brother,” Maddie coos. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, a fond smile firmly planted on his face. The fact that he's her only brother doesn't make the statement any less true, and they both know it. “Come on. Kids start arriving in fifteen and we still need to find that other sharpie. I'm not sharing with you again, that was a _nightmare_.” 

  
  
  
  
  


\------  
  
  


The crowd is _much_ bigger than either of them expect. 

There are lines upon lines of children, all of them chattering away or tugging excitedly on their guardian's sleeves in their haste to get in line as fast as possible. He's had some bigger events, especially the ones in major cities, but none of them compare to this. For a terrifying moment, he almost thinks they've managed to find every kid in the Greater Los Angeles area and nearly shits himself. 

Nothing could have prepared him for a turnout like this, and despite himself, Buck can feel his eyes start to water a little. 

“Holy crap,” Buck breathes under his breath, amazed and absolutely terrified all at once. “This has to be our best turn out, right?” 

“Easily,” Maddie says, sounding just as awed. “We’re definitely going to need those wraps after this.” 

Buck nods. "We may need to buy out a store of their stock after this," he whispers. 

She laughs at him, but he hopes she knows he's not even remotely kidding. 

At all.

\------

  
  
  
  


The children are adorable as always, looking up at Buck with wide eyes and grins that scream 'hero worship' louder than anything else. He can admit that a few years ago this would have only fed into the show of ego he felt he had to hide behind, though not much didn't. Now, it's mortifying and uncomfortable and makes him want to shove a children's book made from someone else at them who isn't as fucked up as Buck. He hasn't really dealt with the reality that the children's book he decided to write on a whim has touched people this much, how in the world is he supposed to deal with all of this? 

He smiles at them all the same, though, asking them who their favorite character is and makes conversation with the parents as he signs their books. He tries to be as personalized as he can, but with the number of people that are waiting in line, he can’t be as thorough as he usually likes. He doubts the children can read the apology in his smile, but he makes sure to keep it there anyway.

They've settled into a rhythm by the time they're a few dozen kids in. Maddie is happily chatting away to anyone who will listen next to him; playful and encouraging with the kids, talkative and charming with the adults and the scrape of her sharpie next to him tells him she's adding her own personalized messages as well. 

He's happy to be home, happy that he can, for the first time in what feels like an age, finally sleep in his own bed, but the loss of _this_ already hits him like a swift kick to his stomach. He doesn't want this to end, he wants to hold onto this a while longer, and he vows to savor this night tonight as long as he can. 

"Hello, Mister!" 

The new arrival pulls Buck sheepishly out of his thoughts, and he looks up, a kind, patient smile at the ready. The kid is cute, with wild curls gathered at the top of his head and a smile brilliant enough to be considered a beam. He's wearing crutches, from what Buck can tell, and he's looking up at him with so much excitement-laced adoration he has to look away. So many kids look at him like that, but he still doesn't understand _why_. All he did was write a book and get his sister to illustrate it. Then it evolved into appearing on Mommy-and-Me book review blogs, which lead to an entire internet movement dedicated to getting his book introduced into elementary curriculum around the country. 

Like he ever could have predicted _that_. 

"Hey, little man!" Buck greets back with the same enthusiasm. 

"You wrote my most favorite book _ever!_ "

Buck's startled into soft laughter. "Thank you, kiddo. That's a huge compliment, I'm glad you liked my book. Tell me, do you have a favorite part?"

It's a question he's made a point to ask pretty much every kid. Each answer is different in some way and it is at least a little bit of an ego boost to know that so many different parts of his book somehow resonated with his audience. Truthfully, knowing what parts mean the most to them is something that's become very important to him completely by accident. While it's true Buck originally wrote it to process his grief and trauma, it's evolved into something so much more now. Seeing how much of an impact his story has had (and the odd Instagram screenshots of book praise Maddie sometimes sends him) has completely morphed his original intent. 

It's _saved_ him and it keeps going and he is so, so absurdly grateful. 

Buck’s startled out of his thoughts -- for the second time in as many minutes -- by the excitement in the kid’s voice when he answers. Regretfully, he’d forgotten he’d even asked one for a moment, which makes guilt harden in his veins. 

“My favorite part is the whole book!” 

Buck smiles. “The whole book, huh?” 

“Oh, yeah,” a new voice answers and Buck is helpless but to look up to try to place it. 

Air is punched right out of his lungs in an instant, eyes going blurry around the edges as he sees who is quite possibly the most attractive man Buck's ever met. Scratch that, he's easily one of the most attractive _people_ he's ever seen and he lives in _LA_. The man is broad, so tightly packed with muscle that he can see it filling out the faded henley that clings to literally every part of him. His eyes are molten hazel-brown, glittering in the lights of the venue as he meets Buck's gaze, smile wide and beaming white. Buck flushes when he realizes he's staring and is grateful beyond measure that Maddie is busy with talking to one of the other parents instead.

She’d never let him live it down for his blatant thirsting. 

“It’s the only book he’s read for the last few months, isn’t that right buddy?” The man says, and the plain adoration for his son on his face makes Buck choke a little. 

Ugh. 

This is hardly the first attractive parent he’s run into, but there’s something about this guy that has Buck feeling less in control than he's been in a long time. Buck absentmindedly attributes it to jet lag and low defenses before returning the man’s smile. 

“Wow, I'm honored, man,” Buck says, appreciative. He returns his attention to the kid’s book, sees the handwritten-in-crayon ‘Christopher’ in rainbow covers the front page. Buck uncaps his sharpie to write a message, letting the cap hang loosely between his lips. “Guess I should make my signature extra special this time, huh?” 

“You’re gonna sign my book?” The kid -- Christopher -- asks, surprised. 

Buck nods. “Yep. Is that okay? I promise to make it look _really_ cool. Scout's honor.”

Christopher grins. “That sounds awesome.” 

"You got it, Christopher. One super awesome message, coming right up." 

Buck's mouth twitches around the cap in his mouth at Christopher's giggle, glancing up at the kid's father, who already happens to be watching him. He can't even begin to understand the expression on his face, but he doesn't look _mad_ at least. Though for some reason, he is staring kind of intently at Buck's face. His eyes flicker down to Buck's lips, or more specifically, the cap between Buck's lips. He has to remind the fluttering in his chest and stomach that the man is probably more confused about Buck's childish antics than what Buck's foolish heart is trying to convince him of.

 _Heya, Christopher!_ _Thanks for stopping in, it was fun to meet you! Poncho and Station 811 wouldn’t be anywhere without poncho-tastic super fans like you._

_\- Buck_

He slides the book back to Christopher without closing it so the little guy can see what he wrote him. His dad is shamelessly leaning over him to read what exactly he put on the front page of his son’s book. He smiles, glancing up at Buck with a pleased nod of approval, which makes him go way warmer than he thinks is necessary. 

_Get it together, Buck_. 

“Thank you for signing my book,” Christopher whispers, gratefully.

"Of course, buddy! You know, can I tell you a little secret? If you tell my sister who your favorite character is, then she might doodle you a little something special," he tells him. 

Christopher giggles. “Really?” 

“Yep. Scouts honor,” Buck says, again, though what he doesn't tell him is that Maddie would have doodled him something anyway. 

Buck watches as the kid nods decisively at his encouragement, taking the short few steps so he can shyly slide his book over to Maddie, that same infectious grin on his face as he does. Being around kids and their cute antics all day really does turn him into a sap, doesn't it? 

"Hey, man," the kid's dad says, stepping forward once his son's attention is officially occupied. It's not unusual for parents to want to chat with him for a bit while their children visit his sister, so he offers the guy an encouraging look, though his pulse is already spiking. The guy really is attractive as hell, and Buck is a very, very weak man. "I just wanted to say thanks."

Buck furrows his brows. "For what?"

"You have no idea how big of a fan he is of you and your book. He really hasn't read anything else since we took our copy of it hope. He won't be able to stop talking about this for the next few months at _least_. He was so excited to meet you. I was nervous, though. Not that I thought you'd be a jerk about it, but--"

Buck laughs. “You hear all those horror stories about jerk authors being mean to the kids who read their books,” he finishes for him. 

The man winces, smiling sheepishly at Buck. “Yeah, exactly.” 

“Don’t worry, man. I told myself I wasn’t going to let myself treat my readers like that. Meeting the kids and hearing how much my book has touched them… that’s why I do this stuff. It’s important to me for you all to know how grateful I am,” he explains. 

The man's expression softens even further, which Buck definitely didn't think was possible.

"You must really love doing this, then." 

"Yeah, I really do. I didn't at first, I guess? It kind of grew on me. I wasn't too stoked about the early mornings, or the ridiculous schedule, but it's nice to get out of the writer's dungeon every one and a while," Buck teases. 

He gets the man to laugh, which sends another bolt of giddiness racing through him.

"Lucky for us that it did," the man pauses. "Thank you, though. I'm glad my son's first experience like this is with an author who actually cares. You have no idea how meaningful that is." 

Buck absolutely turns red to the tips of his ears, but valiantly pushes forward, hoping the man is kind enough not to say anything about it. "It's nothing you need to thank me for," Buck tells him, a bit stilted. 

"As Poncho says, there's always a reason to thank someone," the man replies, smirking a bit. 

That is the _last_ thing Buck expects. Parents have told him a lot of things, mostly rambling on about their children and their interests -- which is adorable and Buck always listens with a self-indulgent smile on his face -- or they talk about themselves, which is less adorable and generally more annoying. However, being quoted his own work? That’s definitely a first. 

He doesn't know what to make of it, honestly. But the guy is attractive, and the smile still hasn't left either of their faces. 

"Fair point," He says, surprise sneaking into his tone, eyes flicking up to catch the man's gaze once again. "I guess I'll need to take her word for it. I, uh, I hope you and your son are having a good time tonight, man." 

The guy snorts. "Oh, we are. I'm sure it's going to be _just_ as fun when I have to break it to him it's bedtime when we get home." 

Buck laughs. So good looking it's distracting, charming, and funny? It's all an impossible and irresistible combination that in the end only leaves him even more attracted to the man. Buck doesn’t have the slightest idea what the man’s name is, _who_ he is, what he does, and yet here Buck is. Pining after him already after only a five-minute conversation. 

Ridiculous. 

“Just remind him how important Poncho thinks it is to have a good sleeping schedule,” Buck suggests, tone light and amused. 

“You know, that might just work.” He glances over at Christopher, sees him finishing up talking to Maddie after she’d signed his book, and turns back to Buck with a wry smile. “Thanks, again, Buck. You've made this experience unforgettable. For both of us.”

Buck blinks, not really sure what to make of the words but he knows what he _wants_ to make of them. Before he can think more about it, though, the man is holding out a hand for Buck to shake. Buck blinks at it like an idiot for several moments.

"I'm Eddie, by the way." 

Buck recovers, raising an eyebrow at him curiously but shakes his hand easily enough. Eddie’s skin is warm, calloused, and sends goosebumps blossoming over his skin as their grips intertwine tightly. Buck can feel another rush of blush gathering on his cheeks from the prolonged eye contact alone. He also finds himself unable to look away. Eddie’s eyes are like molten amber honey, and Buck could easily find himself getting lost in them. 

“Nice to meet you, man,” Buck says, not realizing he’s _still_ holding onto the other man’s hand. He makes no move to drop it, mainly because he kind of forgets how to move his limbs in the wake of Eddie's attention on him. “You’re pretty much the nicest person I’ve met at one of these things.”

Eddie, Buck notes, doesn’t pull away either. 

At least not until Maddie clears her throat. When Buck glances over at her, she has a knowing smile on her face, but underneath that… it seems almost hopeful. A look she hasn’t worn around Buck in a long time, especially not since his accident. As happy as he is to see it, he really doesn't want to deal with the talk she'll coerce him into about it when everything is said and done. He so does not have the time to think about the way he's looking at Eddie right now, not if he wants to preserve his dignity.

“As cute as this is, Buck, we have more kids to meet with,” Maddie reminds him. 

Buck's ears get uncomfortably warm. He avoids Eddie’s gaze and almost instantly drops his hand as if skin-to-skin contact is suddenly painful. He wants nothing more than to sit there and talk to Eddie some more, but Maddie is right, and he really shouldn't allow himself to become distracted like this. It's unprofessional. Or something like that. 

“Sorry, man,” says Buck, looking up at the man with a smile, like he hadn’t just nearly had a small crisis about how nice their hands felt clasped together. “She’s right, though. A writer never sleeps.” 

Buck could definitely be mistaken, but he’s almost positive that’s disappointment clouding Eddie’s eyes. The man covers it up with a smile easily, though, so maybe not. He's probably projecting his feelings all over the other man; it's likely the man has a wife waiting for him at home, after all. The thought alone makes Buck feel a little guilty. “Oh, yeah, I’m sorry to keep you. Guess you’re just easy to talk to.” 

“I shudder to think who you talk to on a daily basis if you think that after only five minutes,” Buck teases him. “See you around, Eddie, yeah?” 

Eddie returns his smile with a grin. “Yeah, sure, man.”

The man puts a gentle, guiding hand on his son’s shoulder. They exchange words Buck can’t quite make out over the noise of the crowd and weight of his sister’s gaze bores into him, but both of them are pretty short-lived. Eddie waves over his shoulder, eyes shifting back to catch Buck’s own looking back at him one last time. 

He _winks_. 

Which isn’t even the worst of it. Of course it’s not; the worst of it is when Christopher looks up at Eddie with a smile and asks, loudly enough that he can hear it,

“Can we go to the one next week, daddy, _please_?”

He can’t hear Eddie’s reply, but it doesn’t stop his heart from getting ahead of him anyway. They watch the father-son duo until they blend into the crowd and as the next kid makes their way up to their signing table, Buck finally allows himself to look at his sister. He feels off-kilter, confused, and more than a little romantically horny. 

“Maddie,” Buck says, carefully. “What the hell was that?”


	2. my soul is in a fix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which there's a new guy, loving teasing from annoying older siblings, and lots of puppy cuddles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for taking so long to get this updated!! i accidentally lost the outline for a while, and then i just got distracted writing on other projects, oops. 
> 
> i am determined to finish this though, so (hopefully) the next update will be quicker. 
> 
> also, for future reference, any scenes in italics are flashbacks wrapped in a good ol nightmare. cause i love writing and crying, apparently. 
> 
> thank you for your support and comments on the first chapter!! i'm really excited to get into the meat of this story. this chapter is a bit of a filler and sadly, no eddie, but it does introduce some important characters to the story as well ;)

The rest of the event goes smoother than either of them could have hoped. 

The last of the guests have filtered out by now, leaving Maddie, Buck, and a few of the breakdown crew for the event. Buck always helps out as much as he can, knowing it’s the work that no one wants to do, but he isn’t nearly as mobile as he used to be. He’s not very efficient with it, sometimes, but it makes him feel useful. Like he used to. 

“So, what was up with you and that one guy?” 

Buck’s cheeks are traitorous and heat up at her words. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Uh-huh,” she says, and she sounds like she’s laughing at him. She probably is, knowing her. Her elbow gently digs into his side. “Come on, Buck. I saw the way you looked at him.” 

“He’s just some attractive parent, Mads,” he tries again. 

“Whatever you say. Does that mean you’re ignoring how blatantly he was flirting with you, too?”

 _That_ makes Buck burst into laughter. “Flirting? With me? Maddie, come on, he's probably straight. He was just being friendly.” 

Maddie stares at him like he’s being an idiot, though to be fair it’s not like that’s exactly out of the normal for them. “Not even you could be that oblivious. I’m surprised he didn’t lean over to kiss you with the way he was staring at you.” 

“Now you’re just trying to get a rise out of me,” Buck says on a particularly enthusiastic eyeroll. “There’s no way he was into me like that, Mads.” 

“Right. So he just stuck around complimenting you while his son waited there patiently for him to stop.” 

Buck laughs. “That’s exaggerating it a little. He was talking to you about the book, I heard it.” 

“You are _impossible_.” 

“Yep. Completely impossible. The absolute _worst_ ,” Buck nods, grinning widely. He loves his sister, wouldn’t be here without her, but he’ll always get a kick out of annoying her. Especially at times like this, when he’s only dishing out what she gives. “And anyway, it doesn’t really matter if he’s into me or not, Mads. It’s not like we’re ever going to see each other again.” 

Maddie hums in acknowledgment. 

Buck counts it as a win. 

  
  
  
  


\------

  
  
  
  
  


It’s the next night when Buck finds himself in Chimney and Maddie’s apartment. 

They try to meet up once a week, schedules and jobs permitting, but they haven’t been able to get together like this since before they left for the tour. It’s nice. Buck made immediate friends with Chimney back at the station, but he’s definitely gotten even closer to him since he started dating Maddie. They’re perfect for each other, the kind of counterpart to yourself they say you can spend your whole life searching for without finding it. Buck is so happy Maddie’s tracked it down. She’s never deserved anything more; Chimney either, really. But especially Maddie. 

Not that he'd ever tell Chim that, but still.

“So, how you are you feeling, Buckaroo?” Chimney asks. “You happy to be back on solid ground?” 

Buck’s standing over the stove, stirring a pot of steaming vegetables while Chimney leans against the far counter with a beer in his hand. He snorts at Chimney’s thinly-veiled worry-filled prying to hide how touched he is by it. 

“Pretty good, all things considered, man. Happy to be back. We missed everyone back here.” 

“We missed you, buddy. Luckily you made it back in time for Pasta Thursday this week. You’re coming, right?” Chimney asks softly, understanding coloring his tone. 

Buck bites his lip, focusing on stirring the vegetables some more even though he’s pretty sure if vegetables had ever been _over-stirred_ , it’d be these. He’s only been to a maybe half a dozen dinners here and there despite being off of the team for over a year and a half by now. Group dinners, though he remains very much invited, grated on an especially raw nerve. 

He is so, so grateful his team, his family, still wants him around despite not being able to truly be _there_ anymore. But he doesn’t know if the wound of not being able to be among them would ever completely heal. Team dinners had seemed impossible for a long time. He doesn’t want to miss them but it almost feels as if it isn't his place to be there anymore. 

“Yeah,” Buck whispers, finally. It really has been too long, and after successfully surviving his first book tour, there’s not much he feels he can’t face right now. Which will probably come back to bite him in the ass, but whatever. Right now it’s fine, and his therapist has been trying to drill into him to take it one day at a time. This has to be what she meant. “I won’t miss it.” 

Chimney grins at him. “That’s what I like to hear! Proud of you, Buck.” The thing is, he knows the man is telling the truth. Chimney wears his pride for the people he cares about on his sleeve, like it’s part of him. Buck’s always admired that about the man. Out of all the old team, Hen and Chimney are the ones that he’s the closest to. Other than Bobby, of course, but that’s different. 

“It’s just dinner, Chim,” Buck replies with a laugh, rolling his eyes. He crouches low to check on the seared chicken legs in the oven. They only have a few more minutes left, so he straightens up to reach for three plates. If it’s mainly to distract himself from the way that Chimney’s staring at him, then that’s not important. 

“First dinner with the family since becoming a hotshot New York Bestselling author, that is,” Chimney reminds him. He doesn’t have to turn around to know the man is smirking at his back. “Besides, maybe you’ll finally be able to meet the new guy.” 

Buck nearly drops the plates he’s holding. 

_New guy?_

He gently sets them on the counter, pivoting on his heel to look Chimney in the eyes. “New guy? What do you mean there’s a new guy?” 

Chimney smiles at him, like this is what he’s been waiting for this entire conversation. “Yep. Joined on about six months ago, give or take. Actually, a couple of weeks after you and Maddie left for your tour. You’d like him, Buck.” 

Buck doesn’t know what he’s feeling, but he knows it’s not exactly _good_. They needed to take on new hands, of course, they did. They were short-staffed before Buck had to step down from his position, and it is only worse now. They can't heal the city running on fumes. He knows, logically, they’re not moving on without him, at least not in the way that he thinks they are. 

He must truly be pathetic, because he knows all of that already, but still can’t stop the pain that grips him around the middle.

Buck’s throat works for a while when he tries to think of what to say. He’s saved, however, when Maddie walks into the kitchen after her shower. Instead of answering Chimney, he smiles at her, gesturing to the food. 

“Took you long enough,” Buck grumbles. “Food is pretty much ready, though.” 

Chimney makes a face when he realizes Buck’s successfully maneuvered himself out of the conversation, but Buck knows his friend, and he knows this is hardly going to be the last time they’ll talk about this. 

That, too, is a problem for Future Buck. 

  
  
  
  
  


\------

  
  
  
  
  


They forget about the conversation about the new guy.

 _Thank_ God. The last thing Buck wants to talk about is the guy they hired to replace him, and instead, the night slowly melts into fond teasing with a healthy dose of ranting about the woes of tour life. The fact that Buck was able to sleep in his own bed last night after getting home was nothing short of transcendence. 

“The _best_ part of the tour, though, for Buck at least, was probably last night, wasn’t it?” 

“Oh, ho?” Chimney says, with renewed interest.

Buck furrows his eyebrows. He’s a few beers in, brain starting to go fuzzy around the edges. He’s not going to lie, he has no idea what she’s even referring to, at least not when he’s this tipsy. 

“What?” 

“Oh, don’t play dumb, Buck. It’s okay to admit you had a crush on the guy,” his sister teases. “This single dad totally flirted with him but he’s being a complete oblivious idiot about it.” 

“I have to say, I definitely agree with your sister.”

“Hey!” Buck protests. “That’s not fair, man. You’re totally biased and you haven’t even heard what happened yet.”

Maddie segues on forward like Chimney or Buck never said anything, though she does smile sweetly at her boyfriend. Buck mimes gagging, earning a snort from Chimney and a playful slap from Maddie. 

“And the guy’s kid wouldn’t stop talking about how _cool_ Buck was. It was very cute,” Maddie gushes, an indulgent smile on her face. 

“Yeah,” Buck nods, sliding oven mitts onto his hands. “His kid was cool. The guy was hot and nice. But that doesn’t mean he’s into me. I’ll probably never seen him again.” 

“That’s not the point, Buck. You could have gone for it then.” 

“Maybe it’s time you start to harness a bit of Buck 1.0’s initiative,” Chimney suggests. Of course, he takes his sister’s side, not that it’s very surprising. Chimney’s been telling him to put himself out there for months, really. He knows his friend is worried about him, the Buck he is today is a far cry from the Buck that showed up to the 118 three years ago with a chip in his shoulder. 

As much as he can admit he gets lonely sometimes (okay, way more than sometimes, if he's being honest) Buck doesn't know if he's in the position to date right now. He's come far, that much is true, but how far is far enough to be emotionally ready to support a partner? Buck's never been skilled at relationships, especially romantic ones, and with the amount of shiny new baggage he has, it'll be even harder. His baggage has baggage that he hasn't even managed to touch yet simply due to how _much_ of it there is.

He has no idea anymore; what he wants, what he needs, and how to tell between the two. 

Instead of _saying_ all that, though, Buck scoffs as he leans forward to get the chicken out of the oven. He sets the pan -- maybe a little more roughly than he means -- on the counter, refusing to look at either of them as he does so. 

Buck scoffs. “Maybe that’s not what I wanted.” He says it a bit more sharply than he means to. He runs a hand over his face as soon as it escapes, and sighs. He knows they mean well, knows that they’re starting to worry about him. It’s no secret to anyone who knows Buck that he doesn’t have a lot of friends outside of the family that he’s created for himself, and it worries pretty much everyone. But, Buck doesn’t know how to tell anyone that he’s terrified. 

He’s scared of putting himself out there again, scared of leaving his house some days. There were days on the tour when Maddie had to drag him out of bed, and they both knew the only reason he was able to make it to the venues on those days was his reader's expectations on his shoulders. Buck’s _exhausted_. 

“Maybe the fact that you do is what scares you.” 

“Maddie…” Buck trails off, and he freezes in place.

Her face softens, and she steps forward to wrap her arms around him loosely in a hug. “Buck,” she says, voice gentle. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to push here. All I want, all we want is for you to be happy. If you’re not ready to date, that’s _okay_ , but you didn’t see your face last night. And friends are important, too.” 

Buck only lasts a few moments before returning her hug with an overly dramatic groan. He can only imagine the smitten look that took over his face when Eddie began paying attention to him. Which means it’s probably ten times worse than he already thinks it is. This is hardly the first time she’s suggested he date someone who has shown interest, but she’s never been so adamant about it before. 

“I know, I know, I looked so stupid,” Buck finally admits. “I can’t believe someone that attractive showed up to our events _and_ he’s a father.” 

Maddie laughs at him, pulling away from him. She gestures towards the food that cooling on the counter, grabbing the plates Buck set out earlier so they can serve themselves as they’d like. 

“A very _single_ father.” 

Buck raises his eyebrows. “Uh, how would you know that?” 

“He wasn’t wearing a ring, Buck,” Maddie explains. “And from the looks of it, hasn’t worn one in a while.”

Oh. Buck hadn’t even thought to _look_. 

“Just so you know, it’s a little creepy you caught that,” Buck tells her, grinning stupidly at the sound of her offended scoff as they all move into the living room to eat. Maddie turns on the TV, opening up Netflix so they can continue with their weekly Wednesday night binge-a-thon. 

“That man was peacocking for you, Buck, I have no idea how you didn’t see it,” Maddie tells him fondly. 

She clicks on The Walking Dead and things fall silent as the episode loads. They only just started the series before they left for tour, none of them really had the time or urge to watch it before they started having dinner together recently. It’s nice, having a chill night at home with two of the people he cares about the most. 

“What season is this show on, anyway?” Buck asks, curiously. 

“Ten,” Chimney says. “I think.” 

Buck curses. _Ten_? “Shit. We’re going to be catching up on this well into our elderly years.” 

Both of them laugh, causing Buck to chuckle along with them. Things are good and warm, and by the end of the night, Buck has forgotten all about Eddie and his ridiculous smile. 

Mostly.  
  
  
  


\------

  
  
  
  


_Buck has never been more scared._

_He’s never hurt more than he has right now, even when it feels as if more than half of his body has gone numb with it. Which, he thinks, with this kind of weight it's probably expected. He_ does _have an entire ladder rig on top of his right leg. Buck can’t feel his face, either, but does recognize the blood as it drips into his eye. There are definitely worse situations to be in, Buck thinks, at least his leg is still attached to his body (for now) but as if sensing his thoughts, things decide to go from kind-of-really-awful to absolutely-shitty within a breath._

_He can see Chimney and Hen off to the side, by the smaller truck that was thankfully out of harm's way. Despite the fact that he’s the one laying here vulnerable, Buck knows he much prefers it this way. Chimney only recently managed to find some common ground with Maddie again, and he definitely doesn’t want Hen’s wife or son to see her in this position instead._

_It’s him, better than anyone. Maddie will worry, sure; the whole team will. But Buck doesn’t have anyone waiting for him when he comes home. Better Buck than a mother, or a doting boyfriend, or the father who lost too much. This is for the best, he tells himself, he's always been the expendable one._

_“Shit,” he whimpers. He doesn’t realize he’s not alone until he hears the distinct crunch of gravel underneath shoes, and when he looks up there’s some kid with a vest on looking at him with wild eyes. Buck swallows. As if the crush injury isn’t bad enough, he’s got to roll his dice with a homicidal teenager as well. Who seems to have a bomb strapped to his chest because of course, he does._

_Wonderful._

_“Who the hell are you?” the kid asks. His eyes have only gotten angrier the longer he holds Buck’s gaze._

_“B -- Buck,” he chokes out. “Who -- why are you doing this?”_

_“Where’s the Captain?” the kid spits. “Give me the Captain! I’ll blow everyone up, don’t think I won’t. Starting with this asshole right here.”_

_Buck closes his eyes. This kid just sounds so damn angry and he has no idea why. Better yet, why the hell he’s so upset with Chimney, of all people. The guy’s practically a walking angel but had no idea he was capable of pissing someone off so much._

_“What?” Buck chokes._

_It’s only when he sees the detonator in the kid's hand he realizes how far in he is. Even if he doesn’t manage to die under the rig, there’s a very likely chance he’s going to get blown up instead. Which is just_ lovely _. Buck tries to take a steadying breath but it only ends up catching in his throat, and his heart rate skyrockets._

_He’s probably going to die._

_No, he’s definitely going to die. There’s no way he’s going to make it out of this, the odds are stacked against him. There is nothing he can do from the ground, trapped like this, and this is the most helpless he’s ever felt._

_“Please,” Buck whimpers. “Please don’t leave me here.”_

_“Shut up!” the kid yells. His voice cracks and it_ hurts _. How young this kid is; someone this young shouldn’t be so angry. “Another word and I’ll hit the damn button, man.”_

_Buck doesn’t trust the look in his eye. He’s not lying._

_“Come on! Where the hell is the captain? I’m not playing games here.”_

_There’s a moment of silence, and then Chimney’s calling back to him._

_“Alright, alright,” his friend’s tone is placating, and Buck doesn’t have to look up to know that he’s holding his hands up, a clear symbol of surrender. “I’m here. You got me. What’s the problem?”_

‘I’m the one stuck under a truck here!’ _Buck wants to yell, but he knows it won’t help, and he’s terrified this kid’s stupid enough to actually blow them all up. He keeps his mouth shut, for once, and forces himself to listen._

_“Who the fuck are you? I don’t want you! Give me the captain.”_

_“Hey, I am the captain,” Chimney replies, tapping the badge on his shirt for emphasis._

_Buck hears the kid take a step forward Chimney menacingly. “In case I wasn’t clear. Give me Captain Robert Nash in the next thirty seconds or I swear to God, I’ll blow us all up.”_

_“Alright! Freddie, kid. Listen, I’m here, alright? Let these people go.” Bobby’s tone is gentle, soothing. Buck knows he’s not talking to him, but he can’t help the relief that goes through him. Bobby will know what to do; Bobby will get him through this._

_“I thought you’d be on the truck,” Freddie scoffs._

_“I’m here now.”_

_“I want you_ dead _,” says Freddie, and the hatred in his voice is still enough to make Buck shudder._

 _“Okay,” Bobby says, as if the kid commented on the weather instead. “What about these guys? What about_ _him_? _He’s got family, a mom, a sister. He wasn’t even a firefighter when your dad burned down that restaurant, Freddie. You know the right thing to do is to let us help him.”_

_“I don’t care, he’s here now and he’ll pay the price for what you’ve done. Just like I’m paying the price for what my father did.”_

_“You chose this path, Freddie,” Bobby reminds him. Buck has no idea what they’re even talking about, but he knows he’s not going to last much longer before passing out. It’s nothing short of miraculous that he’s even still awake right now. “Your father stopped being responsible the moment you decided to set your first bomb. No one is responsible here except for you.”_

_Freddie waves the detonator in front of him menacingly. Buck closes his eyes, figuring this is it, this is the moment when it’s over. Buck is going to lose everything and he won’t even know it, because he’ll be_ dead _._

_“I would watch what you say to the kid with the bomb, Nash,” Freddie spits._

_“Freddie?” A new voice calls. Buck doesn’t recognize it, but it must be someone the kid knows. His whole posture changes, and though it’s hard to see through the blood clouding his vision, Buck swears he almost looks regretful._

_“Mom?”_

_Oh. that explains it. Maybe, just maybe, there’s a chance Buck might make it out of here after all. He might lose his leg, though. He doesn’t want to think about how disastrous that would be, his entire life fucked up and gone within an instant. He squeezes his eyes against the reality of it, breathing ragged and strained._

_The distraction is enough for Bobby to wrap his arms around Freddie and slam his hand over the detonator, efficiently neutralizing him within seconds. Buck knows he isn’t out of the woods yet, but at least he’s not going to get blown up._

_At least there’s that._

_“How you doin’, Buck?” Bobby asks, and when Buck looks up again, Freddie, his mom, and all of the special forces previously surrounding them are nowhere to be seen._

_He chokes on a laugh. “Been better ‘’obby.”_

_“Hang in there, kid,” Bobby says. Buck doesn’t know if it’s his slipping grasp at consciousness or if it’s actually there, but he sounds as frantic as Buck’s ever heard him._

_“Hang in there, Buckaroo,” Chimney says, his hands gently when he secures a brace around Buck’s neck. “Does it hurt?”_

_“Kinda numb,” Buck chokes out._

_“Just focus on our voices, okay? We’re going to get you out of this,” Hen assures him._

_Buck admires her confidence._

_At least, he admires her confidence until they start to lift the truck off of his leg, and then the eerie numbness is replaced by blinding pain that warps up the length of his entire side._

_He doesn’t even realize he’s screaming until the truck is right back where it started. The press of the truck is grates against his bones in a brand new way, the numbness from before entirely gone now. Buck doesn't think he's ever felt pain lick at him like this, until it's suddenly all he is._

_“This isn’t working. We don’t have enough people,” Chimney says. “I’m not sure how much longer he’ll be conscious.”_

_Buck makes an agreeable noise, though it comes out more like a whine. He doesn’t know how much longer he’ll be conscious either._

_Several seconds, or minutes, or maybe even longer pass before he starts to hear several people start running towards them. For a split moment, he’s sure that for whatever reason, Freddie managed to escape whatever hold they had on him, and he’s come back to finish the job. But Bobby and the rest of his team aren’t retreating, and when he manages to glance up at them, they almost look like they’re about to cry._

Civilians. 

_Civilians are rushing forward to help him, and of all of the things Buck had expected from this situation, the generosity and kindness of strangers had never been one of them. He thinks he’d probably be crying if his body could handle any more stress without completely shutting down. Instead, though, he finds himself squeezing Hen’s hand where it grasps his, her grip an assuring foundation._

_“Brace yourself, kid,” Bobby says. “On three, everyone. One. Two. Three. Lift!”_

_All of Buck’s nerve-endings simultaneously light on fire, and the next several minutes are spent in time-bending agony. The next time Buck is consciously aware of himself and his surroundings, he’s in the ambulance with Chim. Hen must be driving; she’s not back here with them and he can hear opening notes the soft music she plays whenever they have a rough call filtering to the back._

_“Chim,” Buck chokes out, or at least he thinks he does. He doesn’t even know if he has the strength to talk out loud right now, but he hopes he is. “M -- Maddie.”_

_Chim squeezes his hand. “She’s already at the hospital, Buck. Hang in there, man. Just a few minutes out.”_

_“‘On’t want to die. Don’t want to lose my leg.”_

_“You’re going to be just fine, Buckaroo.”_

_Buck’s so tired. He remembers the courses, knows that falling asleep right now only further complicates the risks of him never waking back up, but logic doesn’t help him fight against the exhaustion. Buck is so tired, and he almost died twice today; he thinks he’s owed a little sleep on the house. Truthfully though, he's simply tired of fighting it. It feels as if all he's done today is fight, and well, it's going to have to leave him at some point._

_It might as well be now._

_The last thing he sees is Chim’s worried expression hovering over his own and the panicked line that appears between his eyebrows as he watches Buck lose consciousness._

  
  
  


\------

  
  
  
  
  


Buck wakes up in a river of his own sweat. 

While not the brand of nightmare that leaves him afraid to turn off the lights at night, the ones about his accident hit him harder somehow. It’s still something he’s processing, the event itself, the way it made him feel afterward. Having his leg crushed was the easy part, aside from the initial impact he could hardly feel it at all. It’s everything that comes _after_ that cuts Buck up, makes him feel jagged around the softest parts of himself. 

He's always known recovery to be a work in progress, but he wishes someone would have told him just how exhausting it was. In every sense of the word. 

Buck throws back his sweat-soaked sheets, blearily opening an eye so he can squint at his alarm clock. It’s barely three in the morning, but he knows sleep is a lost cause by now. It always is. He resigns himself to a late night of too much coffee and article browsing on his phone. 

There are worse ways to spend a night, at least. 

Maybe he can even get a headstart on finalizing the last bits of chaos before sending off the second draft of his new book. After writing and publishing _Station 811_ , Buck was sure he would be done with books for the rest of his life. But there’s a freedom that comes with the work, and Buck finds it to be, overall, pretty cathartic for him. He never thought he'd be the type to tell a decent story, but the kids who read and enjoy his books seem to think differently, at least. Buck can't do much, but he can help them; craft a story that actually means something a kid could understand. 

Between his book work, and his shifts at the animal rescue, Buck, thankfully, has plenty to keep him busy so he doesn't dwell. If he can't save people anymore, then the next best thing for him to do is help children and save helpless animals. There's always a dog or cat or otherwise domesticated pet out there who needs his help, just like there will always be a lonely child that needs a book to read. 

Thankfully, he has a shift at the shelter this afternoon, checking in on their high-risk rehabilitations before moving onto a few adoption interviews later in the evening. Buck’s favorite part of the job is getting to see animals find their forever people. Buck knows how much it meant when he found _his_. With animals, it's somehow even better.

Buck autopilots through the motions of making his first cup of coffee of the day, setting aside a fresh set of clothes for when he’s ready to take a shower. His laptop is where he left it when he came home for a quick stop after landing back in LA, sprawled on his dining room table. His fingers itch to grab it, stuck in one of those mindsets where he can easily lose himself in book work if he let himself. 

This morning, he lets himself. He has the time, and, for once, the motivation.

  
  
  
  


\------

  
  
  
  


By the time he makes it to his shift at _Another Chance_ _Pet Rehab & Rescue_, Buck can see very clearly the small rescue startup he began working at right after getting cleared for minimal physical therapy has erupted into chaos. 

He can see May and Karen running around the front lobby frantically. There’s a huge box of wriggling, excited puppies in the middle of the lobby and one quick glance tells Buck there’s at least a dozen of them in there. Maybe even more, going by the panicked looks on the rest of the employee's faces. They most likely don't have the space for all of them, but Buck refuses to think about that right now. 

Being low on space certainly hasn't stopped him before, and he's not going to let it stop him this time either. 

“Whoa,” Buck says.

The puppies all perk up at the sound of a new voice, running towards the side closest to him. They’re either Australian Sheperd or Border Collies, judging by their coats and general look, or maybe even a mix of both. They can’t be older than seven or eight weeks old, all cute as shit and tugging at every spare chord of Buck’s heart. He knows if he didn't live in a space that prohibited it, there'd be nothing stopping him from taking every last one of them home with him.

But, of course, because he’s Buck and Buck doesn’t know when to quit, with anything, one of them sticks out more than the rest. 

She’s a small, timid thing, curled up in the back corner of the box and absolutely staying as far away from Buck as possible. She must be the runt of the litter, and from the way she’s sitting, he can tell there’s something wrong with her back leg. May and Karen have gone quiet when he entered the room, and both of them are watching him with knowing expressions on his face. 

He really is that predictable, isn’t he. 

“Where did you even find these guys?” He asks. 

Karen laughs. “Some kids dropped them off on their way to school. Said they found them on the side of the road and couldn’t just leave them there.” 

“This is going to be so much paperwork. Do we even have the space for them?” 

“I hope so,” Karen answers, and she sounds tired. Buck knows they don’t have the funds to take on every rescue that they’re pointed to, which means they either send them off to whatever shelter has space available or turn to in-house fostering. It’s not the most efficient, but with the small staff they have right now, there’s not much else they can do. 

Buck’s been pushing for hiring more people on, but donations have been tight and Buck doesn’t see another royalty check for another few months. 

“We’ll figure it out,” Buck says, casting one more look at the pup curled away from all the others. He approaches the box finally, keeping his movements slow and non-threatening. The puppies only get more excited the closer he gets, and by the time he’s close enough to touch, most of them are yapping and jumping over each other to try and get his attention. 

It’s adorable. Heartachingly so. 

“The shy one,” Buck says, letting his fingers sink into the puppies’ soft fur, scratching behind their ears whenever a new puppy gets in reach. “Have you checked her over at all?” 

“We didn’t want to scare her more by getting too close, figured we’d let the puppy whisper have the first go,” May says, voice teasing in a way that reminds him so much of Maddie he can’t help but laugh. 

“She doesn’t seem to like me much either, but I’ll give it a try,” Buck says. “After we get some food in them. They look like they haven’t had a good meal in a while.” 

“I don’t think they were out where those kids found them for long,” Karen says, which is definitely a relief. “But given by how malnourished they are, I don’t think they had the best care wherever they came from before that either.” 

Buck figured as much. 

“Assholes. Let’s get them weighed and some food.” 

  
  
  
  


\------

  
  
  
  
  
  


The end of his shift fast approaches, and he’s no closer to making friends with the smallest puppy by the end of his shift. She’s no longer cowering in the corner away from everything and anything that moves, but she’s not immediately warming up to him like all of her siblings. 

Buck doesn’t mind. He knows with patience and love, and a hell of a lot of time, she’ll come around. It’s also possible she’s not a very affectionate dog, which is okay too. 

Buck won’t admit it to anyone but himself, but he’s already considering keeping her. Imagines putting her dog bed in front of the window in his 'office' (the far corner of his bedroom loft), so she can lay with him while he works on his books or whatever it is that’s on the agenda for that day. He imagines how perfectly her food and water bowl would fit on the side of his island in the kitchen, how toys for her would fill every nook and cranny she could ever hope to hide them in. 

Buck can see it so _perfectly_. He’s thought about it, especially over the last few months. He’s always had a fondness for dogs, and after his accident, and the tsunami, and everything else that had gone wrong, getting one is only more and more appealing. 

He’s going to have to work at it, though, if he wants to earn her trust. Her loyalty. 

Buck’s up for the challenge. 

“You and me, Peanut. We're in this for the long haul, okay? You're going to like me, eventually. Hopefully. I'm not going to give up on you." 

Peanut yaps at him as if to disagree, and it makes him smile at her, already besotted. 

This is going to be fun. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! please let me know what you thought :) 
> 
> since this is a canon divergent au, i figured changing up the exact dialogue between freddie and bobby wouldn't be too big of a deal. yay for creative license.
> 
> ALSO not sure if anyone really cares but [here](https://www.keystonepuppies.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/09/Mini-Australian-Shepherd-640x525.jpg) is what peanut looks like, just so you can get a clear picture of the speed in which buck's heart melted upon first meeting her ;-)
> 
> as always you can find me on tumblr @[buckleyeddie](https://www.buckleyeddie.tumblr.com/) if you wanna chat, prompt, or just yell at me about these boys.

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from "philophosize" by parekh and singh! 
> 
> i can't promise super consistent updates, but i will be updating this as frequently as i can! i'm going to try to stay on top of having at least a two chapter buffer, but i am impatient to share this story so fjsdhgh 
> 
> chapter count is an estimate! expect chapters to get a little longer (and sappier) as the story goes on, im a rambly bastard and cannot be controlled :')


End file.
